Self isolation: Birthdays, school and breakdowns!

Tuesday was my niece's twelfth birthday. The plan had been to go to Montana's to celebrate for a family dinner, but life seems to be changing by the second and we all need to stay home to try to flatten the curve of this pandemic.

Self isolation. It all still feels like a dream when I actually think about it too deeply.

Instead, on my niece's birthday we all gathered in our own homes on a Facebook messenger video group chat to sing happy birthday, as my sister brought her a cake for a short but sweet virtual birthday party.

The pandemic wasn't as serious four days ago as it is now, but we all elected to stay in our own homes because it was the safest bet. Now it would just be what we are mandated to do.

The virtual birthday party was bitter sweet. It was maybe ten or fifteen minutes of us looking at one another on our screens and talking over each other awkwardly. I'm so grateful for the technology to be able to share in moments like this from far away, but I've never missed my nieces birthday. I felt profoundly sad not to be there for this one.

This situation is surreal. Fear and isolation are both still so new, yet already feel deeply ingrained.

Yesterday I woke up, hopeful that I could get all three kids to play some super loose variation of "school" with me. I joked about starting the day with O' Canada and making them call me Miss Cook. I thought I could at least keep up with the suggested assignments from their teachers, and ideas from educators and other parents online. Or, in the very least I thought I could keep a cohesive morning routine around the dining room table.

It all fell apart pretty fast. While I made the two older kids write in a diary and the little one draw in a notebook, I didn't even delve into the jump math or book reports. All of our attention spans couldn't compute this new reality. I'm not a teacher, and after this hard slap into reality, I realize that teachers should all get a billion dollar raise.

Less than an hour later my in home class was dismissed and I felt like a giant failure.

It's not a contest. I have to keep reminding myself that life is not a contest.

I had a good cry after watching everyone's homeschooling pandemic stories. I sat there, in my room with big fat tears rolling down my cheeks watching everyone's crafts, homeschooling, yoga, walks in the snow. The glossy instagram side of this self isolation hit deep. Instagram makes everything, including pandemics look like a goddamn snow day.

It was my first day home from work and I couldn't help but compare myself to all the other moms in my situation-- A big no no for all social media, I know this, but I'm more sensitive than pre-isolated me. Right now things that wouldn't normally bother me are really getting to me and I haven't quite navigated this entire situation yet.

Until that point my youngest kid had been wearing the same pyjamas for days. Chris and I had been tense and short with one another, and all three kids had been watching waaaaay too much TV. When self-isolation became the new normal, we stopped adhering to the bedtime schedule, and I started letting them do things like playing on my laptop that I said none of the kids would ever be allowed to touch, and playing on the newly charged travel iPad (that I only let them use during trips.)

We probably should be better at keeping our routines, but we are in uncharted territory. We may as well try to make things more enjoyable for everyone right now.

I keep wavering in my belief that it won't last too long, to my belief that this is the new normal for the foreseeable future. I hate being in this weird limbo spot.

I may try to enroll my kids in my weird dining room table class again on Monday. If anything, I'll make sure they keep writing in their journals. This is something I think they'll want to look back at one day...

It will get better.